Page 8 of Softer Than Stone
4
WARU
The frantic beatingof my heart should have been enough for me to hyperventilate. If I wasn’t so good in a crisis, that would be exactly what I was doing.
“Waru, you’re good to ease off the accelerator.”
I got the impression that wasn’t the first time Chris had said those words to me, making me rethink just how “good in a crisis” I really was. Heaving out a breath before inhaling slowly, I inch my foot back, my car slowing down. For about ten minutes I’d been driving directionless, just wanting to get out of there, away from flying bullets. A glance around had me frowning.
“You doing okay?” Chris’s voice was a deep caress and surprisingly grounding. All this time I kept my shit together, not freaking out or letting my panic spiral, but from the trembling in my hands, any semblance of calm was going to go flying out of the window. “Waru, pull over here.” He reached over, flicking my indicator to pull into the quiet pub car park. Another hour or so and the tradies would no doubt fill the space for their final beer of the day after work before heading home.
Pulling into a space, I sighed on another exhale before putting my car into Park. My belt was unclipped for me, but itwas the warm hand that had me unclenching my grip on the wheel.
“You did great. You got us out of there safely.”
I nodded at his words, trying to silence the what-ifs as I did so.
“We’ll just take a breather, and then we’ll get moving, yeah?” His strong palm squeezed my forearm, dragging my attention to his sun-kissed skin covered by a smattering of blond hairs. They were almost the shade of his short locks, but the hints of red cut through the sunshine yellow.
“Yeah. Okay?” I made to switch off the engine, but Chris stopped me.
“Let’s leave it on.”
Fuck.The “just in case” went unsaid.
The quiet in the car stretched taut, tension clinging to the air like the remnants of gunpowder. My hands rested on my thighs, finally still, though my chest still rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm.
“Waru,” Chris said again, softer this time. My name on his lips was almost a plea.
I turned my head towards him, intending to reassure him that I was fine. Really. But whatever words I was about to say evaporated. His gaze locked on mine, and the unspoken intensity in his golden eyes was a tether I couldn’t break.
Before I could second-guess myself—or before Chris could—I leaned forwards, closing the space between us.
The moment our lips met, it was like a fuse had been lit. A heady mix of relief, adrenaline, and raw chemistry exploded between us. His hand cradled my jaw, thumb brushing the curve of my cheek, while I angled towards him, swallowing the quiet groan he let slip.
God, he tasted good—like coffee, like danger, like the spark of something I hadn’t let myself hope for.
It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was frantic, consuming, a desperate clash of mouths and teeth that made me forget the bullets, the fear, and everything else except him.
When we finally pulled apart, our breaths mingling in the confined space, I felt more grounded than I had in hours. My lips tingled, and the sharp edges of the world seemed a little softer.
Chris didn’t apologise, and neither did I. His gaze lingered on my mouth for a beat longer before he cleared his throat.
“We need to go,” he said, though his voice was rougher than I’d started getting used to.
I nodded, still reeling but pulling it together. “Where?”
“To Stilton,” he said, easing back into his professional veneer, though the flush on his neck betrayed him. “It’s a safe house, about an hour south of Sydney. It’s where we’ll be holding the people we’ve arrested.”
I frowned. “Why do I need to go? Why can’t I just head home?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and he hesitated for a moment before answering, “Because you’re a witness now. And because I don’t trust Kole’s people not to retaliate.”
The mention of Kole sent a chill through me, but I worked to push it down. I should be worried about my staff, about the restaurant, about the damage and what condition it was in. But as my yayi always told me, “You’ve got to listen to the land, to what your gut tells you.”
And right now? My gut was screaming not to let Chris out of my sight.
“You’re driving,” he said suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts.
